Knight's Journey
by SailorChronos1
Summary: She believes that it wasn't just an urban legend. A dedicated woman searches for the Knight Industries Two Thousand.
1. First Steps

Knight Rider and all associated characters (except mine) are owned by National Broadcasting Company and Universal Studios. All persons described herein are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. Copyright infringement is not intended.

Knight's Journey  
by Sailor Chronos

Chapter 1: First Steps

March 2012

"Such an ungrateful child!"

Her mother's exclamation echoed off the walls of the small kitchen, and was so sudden that Mikayla staggered back a step, feeling betrayed. "Who's really being ungrateful, Mother?" she retorted. "You're the one who tried to hide my acceptance letter to Caltech!"

"That's a private college. Did you think that money grows on trees? It's past time that you found an appropriate job. You've been tinkering long enough." The woman stood back with her arms crossed over her chest, now ignoring the kettle that had been put on to boil a few moments earlier.

"It's not tinkering, Mother, it's progress. Besides, I have the scholarship grant and the rest of the tuition's already been taken care of. Why won't you understand?" This confrontation had been a long time coming, she realized in that instant. Her mother had never liked her career choice.

"Taken care of?" Her proud disposition was beginning to crack. "What nonsense are you spouting?"

"My inheritance and racing prizes were put in a trust–"

"Damn that grandfather of yours!" her mother exploded. "It's his revenge for your brother being–"

Mikayla furiously barged into her mother's personal space. She refused to compromise when her beloved brother was involved. "Leave. Devante. Out. Of. This."

"I would if you'd have enlisted in his place to carry on the family tradition!" The arrogance had returned.

"Enlisted?" she scoffed. "Hasn't this family suffered enough on the military's behalf? It's time to go in a different direction."

"Your father wouldn't have–"

"DAD'S DEAD!" Silence settled on the room for a few seconds as Maria Ferrell's expression briefly changed from anger to shock at such an outburst from her normally even-tempered daughter. "He was killed in a frivolous war that benefited nobody other than lying, money-grubbing politicians," Mikayla continued bitterly. "And then you had the nerve to encourage Devante to emulate him! He came back so broken that you had to have him institutionalized."

Her mother's dark eyes flashed with indignation. "How dare you!"

"That's the truth! It's not my problem if you don't want to hear it. I've always respected our family's military legacy, but it's not for me. I've wanted to be an engineer since I was a kid." She whirled and headed for the door to her room.

"You come back this instant, young lady!" her mother growled. "You will reconsider or I'll disown you."

Such a threat might have given pause to many other young people, but not her. Not after everything that had happened. With her hand on her doorknob, she said flatly, "Then I guess you'll have to disown me."

Maria turned her back and switched the kettle off.

* * *

May 2016

It was a beautiful spring day when the newly-minted Mikayla Ferrell, Doctor of Engineering, looked up at the staid façade of the Knight Industries, Inc. Los Angeles office building. The warm breeze ruffled her shoulder-length black hair. This moment was part of a lifetime's dream.

At the age of five she'd discovered a box of her grandfather William's collection of VHS tapes and watched footage of the first Alternative 2000 cross-country race. Begun in 1983, it was an annual showcase for vehicles that ran on non-petroleum-based fuel sources, and the sponsors would donate to alternative fuels research.

Her interest in the race and the cars involved in it had her asking incessant questions to her adored granddad, who at the time was a partner in an auto mechanics business. He had visited her family's home frequently, sometimes passing by directly after work wearing overalls and smelling of grease. It was he who'd encouraged the young girl to pursue her passion.

At first Maria had allowed it, thinking of it as no more than a mere pastime. But everything changed when her husband Allan was killed during a military deployment when Mikayla and her older brother were teenagers. Her dislike deepened when William had introduced Mikayla to someone he knew, who raced cars as a sideline. As soon as the girl had gotten her driver's license, she quickly rose from mechanic to test driver to racer. Maria's objections were overruled by William who rightfully pointed out that a car racer assumed less risk of injury than an active duty soldier.

Plus, Mikayla had become extremely good at it, and William wisely had invested the prize money she'd won into a trust fund, with a requirement that she use it for her college education. His foresight had been a huge boost.

Unfortunately, now the family was irrevocably split due to her mother's stubbornness. Not long after the horrible argument over the acceptance letter, Mikayla had moved out of her mother's home and into residence at Caltech, effectively ending their relationship.

Mikayla shook her head to clear it. Now wasn't the time to get maudlin. She had to ace this interview in order to take the next step in her journey. There were many companies that specialized in electronics and automation, but Knight Industries was one of the most prestigious in the country, and she'd set her sights on it some time ago.

She walked up to the main door and pulled it open. Now she would see if the past four years of graduate studies had been worth it.


	2. Meeting

Knight Rider and all associated characters (except mine) are owned by the National Broadcasting Company and Universal Studios. All persons depicted herein are fictional and and resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 2: Meeting

September 2016

Another step, another door. This one bore a brass plaque on it that read "Jennifer Knight". Mikayla had been summoned by the Knight Industries CEO, for what reason she hadn't been able to figure out. During her three-month probation period at the company she'd been the model employee, rising to the challenge of every task that had been presented to her.

Once she'd found her place in the pecking order – every office had one, she was told – she'd begun to open up to her colleagues about her personal motivations and expectations. Every so often she'd ask an offhand question about certain company-related subjects that interested her. More often than not, the response was that she didn't yet have the clearance to know. She quickly realized that Knight Industries had influence in more areas than she was aware of, and that security was of utmost importance. Nobody was going to tell a new employee about classified projects.

So she'd desisted, and continued on her regular routine, until she received the fateful email from her manager.

She opened the door and was instantly impressed with the well-appointed office. Two walls were lined with bookshelves, and the floor was dominated by a large mahogany desk. As the door closed behind her with a soft bump, Ms. Knight turned her gaze on her. The CEO looked to be in her 60s but was still vital, with greying brown hair tied behind her head in a bun, and icy cool blue eyes.

"Good morning, Ms. Knight," Mikayla said politely. "You wished to see me?"

"Why are you here?"

The question took her completely by surprise. "I beg your pardon, ma'am?"

"You heard me. I'm waiting for your answer."

She took a shaky breath; she should've been expecting something like this. Jennifer Knight was known to be a shrewd individual whose leadership had turned the company into the powerhouse it was today, but she tended to be tough on the employees. The question must have a deeper meaning, so merely saying that she'd been requested would be insufficient. Clearing her throat, she said, "I believe that in striving for excellence, any person's efforts can help the greater good of the community."

Ms. Knight's face hardened and she abruptly stood up. "Don't parrot the policy manual to me, Dr. Ferrell. I might look old to you, but believe me, I'm much smarter than you are. One doesn't become the CEO of a multinational company by being stupid." She walked around the desk to face Mikayla directly, and the younger woman paled. "I'm aware of your little act of asking innocent-sounding questions and poking your nose into places it doesn't belong. If you're a spy for a rival company, you're not a very good one."

Mikayla swallowed nervously, trying to make her tongue work. "HR told me that my credentials were spotless, and I was given full approval after the probationary period."

"Don't play games with me!" Ms. Knight snapped. "Credentials can be faked, decisions can be flawed, and idealists who think that working for such a company as this will get them somewhere are foolish. I want to hear, in your own words, why you're here." She glared at Mikayla stonily. "If you can't answer to my satisfaction, you'll be escorted from the premises."

Facing such a forceful personality made her begin to wilt inside. Nothing that she could think of seemed an appropriate enough response. It reminded her somewhat of her grandfather, who had been one of the kindest souls she'd known, but when he took a position there was no dissuading him from it. The thought of him gave her courage, and she knew there was only one thing to say.

She looked at Ms. Knight with a solid expression and said, "K Two Thousand."

Of all the things she could've said, that was clearly what Ms. Knight had least anticipated. The woman's eyes widened in shock and she turned on her heel. "Command: silent mode," she barked. The window blinds adjusted themselves, dimming the room somewhat, and Mikayla heard a soft click as the door locked. The red operation light on the office's security camera switched off. "What do you know about that, young lady?" Ms. Knight asked.

Mikayla hesitated. This was obviously a sensitive subject as far as her boss was concerned. "My late grandfather had a videotape of the first Alternative 2000 cross-country race in 1983. One of the entries was a customized black Pontiac Trans-Am referred to as the K2000 Special, driven by a man named Michael Knight. I watched that tape multiple times as a child and it inspired me to pursue a career in automotive electronics and engineering. When I started researching the field, I came across an archived journal article about that race that went into more detail, including the fact that the K2000 was sponsored by an organization known as the Foundation for Law and Government: a subsidiary of Knight Industries."

Ms. Knight pursed her lips together for a moment and then sighed. "That's correct, Dr. Ferrell. The Knight Industries Two Thousand project was instituted by my father, Wilton Knight. He was of the mind that with the right skills and support, one man could make a difference. It's never mentioned in this office, however, due to the nature of its operation. That is why I silenced the camera, because I want no official record of it." The hard glare returned. "I do believe you're telling the truth. But that doesn't dissuade me from firing you, so you need to do better."

"Ms. Knight," Mikayla said, becoming a bit more confident. "As long ago as it was, there are still people who remember it. Some people who witnessed the 1983 race told stories about the car that performed maneuvers that no other car at the time was capable of, and even finished the race without a scratch on it. One account even claimed that the car could _speak_." She straightened up to her full height. "I concluded that Michael Knight was no ordinary driver, or that Trans-Am was controlled by a highly advanced computer. As I dug deeper, I found mentions in archived tabloids and small local news publications across the western states that Michael Knight and his "talking car" were responsible for many criminals being brought to justice. Then in 1990, they both vanished. I decided to devote myself to finding out what happened to the car, a journey which has brought me here." She took a step forward. "I'm no spy, Ms. Knight, I'm a believer."

The older woman paced across the room for a few moments, a serious expression on her face. She then faced Mikayla squarely. "You are the first person in many years to deduce this much, and for that I commend you. Very few people know the truth of the KI2000, which is why I've decided to transfer you to the Research and Development division. Perhaps there you will be able to further expand your talents."

Barely reining in her intense disappointment, Mikayla asked boldly, "I'm sorry, but why not the Foundation for Law and Government?"

The answer was blunt. "Since March of 2009, FLAG has been an independent entity. Last I heard, they'd no need of a new recruit."

Something about the change in tone of her boss' voice bothered her. "Permission to speak freely?"

Ms. Knight snorted. "This isn't the military; if you have something to say, then say it."

She walked closer to the older woman, noting that Ms. Knight was only about an inch taller than her. "It's clear that you're protecting the Foundation, not only because it was your father's legacy but because its operation is important. Michael Knight had something do with it also; I can guess that he was a field agent. His vehicle coincidentally disappeared at the same time as he did, which leads me to conclude that either he was killed and the car stolen, or he retired but refused to surrender it."

The regal shoulders slumped, and Ms. Knight turned away. "You are half right," she suddenly admitted, apparently having chosen to reveal the truth. "Michael and the KI2000 worked together for eight years and were inseparable. When he retired, the KI2000 remained with the Foundation and a new driver was assigned. Unfortunately, that partnership didn't work nearly as well."

Mikayla was bewildered. An idea had formed in her mind that made sense and yet was impossible at the same time. "You're talking as if the KI2000 was alive."

"In a sense, it was. The car couldn't have performed the way it did without its AI controller. We called it KITT. Over time it evolved beyond its original programming and exceeded all expectations. Those who worked directly with it always referred to it as 'he' because the voice modulator used a male sample. They even swore it could express emotion."

"I knew it," she whispered in awe. Ever since she'd watched the tape for the first time, she was certain that there was something special about the Trans-Am. No other car had the strange red light on the hood that wiped back and forth. An enhanced frame-by-frame examination of the recording had showed that at times, Michael was actually talking _to_ the car. Online theorists had waved it off as either the idiosyncrasy of an eccentric driver or a radio communication that was happening between the driver and another party. But she hadn't been convinced, and this conversation had confirmed her own long-held theory. "A thinking, intelligent entity that could convey its own opinions. What a technological accomplishment!"

"Well, the Board of Directors didn't think so," Ms. Knight said derisively as she idly shuffled a few papers on her desk. "I had to fight them and the government almost every step of the way to keep the support for FLAG available. But when Michael's replacement failed to adequately bond with the AI, the program was scrapped. It wasn't until 2008 when a new version was developed."

"Just a moment. What do you mean, bond with the AI?" she asked.

"Its original core programming prevented it from harming humans, and to obey its driver's orders exclusively. Devon Miles, the director of FLAG at the time, reported that Michael and KITT didn't get along very well at first, but within a few months they considered each other as best friends. I couldn't believe it until I witnessed them in action for myself. It was as if they could each anticipate each other's needs and react accordingly." She shook her head with a wondering smile. "I suppose one could compare them with a well-trained rider and horse, but KITT was far more intelligent than that."

Mikayla nodded her understanding. "I assume, then, that KITT didn't adjust well after Michael's departure."

"No," Ms. Knight said dully. "Even though it chose to stay with the Foundation on its own terms, it wasn't the same. It was Michael's car through and through, and nobody else could satisfy it. The Board was adamant that some purpose had to be found for it if it could no longer perform competently, and so despite my objections it ended up being dismantled and most of its parts sold for various research projects elsewhere."

That revelation almost brought tears to Mikayla's eyes. Was her search at an end? "So, they killed KITT."

Ms. Knight walked up to her and reached out to grip her shoulders, her eyes also shining. "There might be some hope. I long suspected that one of the project scientists salvaged the AI core and hid it somewhere, but I was never able to confirm it."

"But you're the CEO," she protested. "Surely you could–"

"A CEO can't know everything about the company they manage," Ms. Knight interrupted. "Which is why they delegate to trusted people in high-level positions. I spend too much time running this company to be able to sniff around in the lower echelons, whereas I believe that you have the tenacity and drive to investigate where I cannot." Ms. Knight strode to a file cabinet and pulled a form out of one of the drawers. After reseating herself at the desk she began to fill out the form with broad strokes of a pen. "That's the reason behind my decision to transfer you to R&D. You've convinced me that your desire to find KITT is honest."

"You said there was another one," Mikayla reminded her. "Could you tell me more about it?"

"I haven't actually met it but I know of it, of course. The Knight Industries Three Thousand also goes by KITT; its frame is a Shelby Mustang and the AI has a completely different personality. I can't say more, and I'm certain that you can appreciate why." At Mikayla's nod, she continued, "Your job now is to find out what happened to the original KITT, and you will report directly to me." Her expression became neutral once again, although a twinkle remained in her eyes, and she gave a small jerk of her head.

Mikayla understood and moved back to her original position just as Ms. Knight said, "Command: normal mode." The window blinds retracted, the door unlocked, and the camera reactivated. The CEO signed the form and handed it over. "Give this to your manager at once, Dr. Ferrell. Good luck with your endeavours."

She gave a meek "Yes, ma'am," as she played along with the deception, and left the office. Anyone viewing the surveillance footage would notice the slight discrepancies, but very likely would assume that the CEO had given a recalcitrant employee a scolding that wasn't considered important enough to record. She had to give Jennifer Knight her due for that bit of forward thinking.

The manager glanced at the form, muttered something about Ms. Knight being old school instead of simply sending an email, and directed Mikayla to clear out her desk. "The R&D facility is in Pasadena," he informed her.

"That's on the other side of the city!" she blurted before she could stop herself.

He shrugged, and then gave her a smile. "I'm sorry to lose such a promising young talent, but if Ms. Knight says so, she must have good reason. Good luck." 


	3. Search

Knight Rider and all associated characters (except mine) are owned by the National Broadcasting Company and Universal Studios. All persons described herein are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. Copyright infringement is not intended.

Chapter 3: Search

October 2016

The sprawling Knight Industries Research and Development complex was bordered by dense greenery and tight security to keep prying eyes away. To a casual observer the building design and layout resembled that of a university campus, but the extraordinary projects that came to fruition within its walls were far beyond those of any school.

Upon her arrival, Mikayla was taken on a whirlwind tour by none other than the division's Vice President. Dale Cross was a handsome man with light brown hair that was beginning to show flecks of grey at the temples. He'd been VP for over a decade and had stringent expectations from all of his subordinates. "Since you've already been given the basics at the main office, you must understand what Knight Industries requires of its employees," he told her crisply, but not unkindly. "Here at R&D we need extra precision and dedication."

"I can appreciate that, sir," she said, "but every scientist knows that behind every success lies many failures."

"Quite so," he agreed. "I see you have humility, which is a rare quality these days; I like that. However, to get up the ladder one sometimes needs to be ruthless – and many people here are quick enough to take advantage of a youngster such as yourself." He smiled genially.

"Thanks for the warning, sir," she said amiably. "I prefer to get along with people rather than cause trouble, but I'm not averse to standing up for what I believe in."

"That's good. I'm looking forward to seeing great progress from you."

* * *

It came as no surprise that her first position was that of a lab assistant. The title of "Dr." didn't mean much at such a specialized facility where many people had way more experience than she did. However, it gave her the opportunity to familiarize herself with the places that the higher-ups rarely visited, including the company archive. Like many corporations whose roots stemmed from the pre-digital era, there was a plethora of information that hadn't been digitized. The massive temperature-controlled underground vault was the first place that she intended to begin searching for anything related to the KI2000, and the perfect time to do that would be when most of the staff was attending the Halloween party. She'd have at least several hours without fear of interruption.

After making her obligatory appearance at the party in a simple costume that consisted of a plain black dress, an over-sized red bow in her hair, and a corn broom, she slipped away and navigated a series of back hallways to get to the archive. Nobody was in sight. She had no trouble with access, since even the lowest-ranked people needed to consult the information it contained, and she blessed the presence of both paper card and digital indexes.

There was no direct reference to the KI2000 project itself, since most of it had been classified from the beginning. But there were hints here and there. Blueprints of specialized parts that were labelled to be for an aircraft but to her eyes were clearly meant to be installed in a car. Chemical formulas that had been tested for durability in temperature extremes. Reams of machine code that was more complex than anything she'd seen.

After over an hour, she hit the jackpot.

The huge amount of information that Wilton Knight himself had left behind had been neatly categorized and stored on shelves at the back of the vault. Mikayla quickly learned that he had worked with many people during his career but four names came up again and again: Breeland, von Voorman, Yamata, and Graiman. A few quick searches told her that all of them were now dead, but Yamata and Graiman had children who had followed their parents' footsteps into the Knight Industries fold.

Dr. Takumi Yamata was one of the senior engineers in R&D. But it was Dr. Sarah Graiman's record that stunned her more.

Sarah Graiman was the current director of the Foundation for Law and Government.

Mikayla thought back to her conversation with the CEO. Why hadn't Jennifer Knight told her this when asked about it? She must have known. Then again, Ms. Knight had said that FLAG was an autonomous entity, implying that information related to its projects and operation was not necessarily kept in the main company archive where it would be readily accessible. From what she could glean from the clues at hand, the history of FLAG was spotty: it had been shut down and reinstated at least three times over the years, so its records would be harder to find.

She needed to contact Sarah Graiman.

Tracking her down proved to be another exercise in perseverance. Aside from a profile on a professional community web site, she had no digital footprint to speak of. The family home outside of Santa Clarita had been sold six months after Dr. Charles Graiman's death in January of 2009. Sarah herself owned a house in Hawaii but it had no fixed phone line. There would be no point in going there either because there was no way to know if Sarah was actually present at any given time.

As for FLAG, all past phone numbers that had been associated with it in the Knight Industries database were disconnected, or in some cases, reassigned by the phone company to other customers. Mikayla had to apologize to several people for calling them unannounced. Its original headquarters, a large estate in the vicinity of Las Vegas, was still owned by the company but was used primarily for official events. Other properties in Seattle and San Antonio had been repurposed. As far the company was concerned, the current location of FLAG was unknown and no KI employees were associated with it.

Finally, Mikayla studied Sarah's online profile more closely. She had several degrees in science and engineering from Stanford University, with a specialization in nanotechnology. In fact, she gave a weekly lecture in advanced engineering that was only open to a very few applicants each semester.  
It was time to go back to school.

* * *

November 2016

The skies were gray and threatening rain when Mikayla paid a visit to the Stanford main campus in Santa Clara. Normally she'd be working at her post, but had received permission to take the afternoon off for an "educational seminar". Being unfamiliar with the place, it took longer than expected for her to find her way to the hall where Dr. Graiman's lecture was being held. Fortunately, she hadn't missed much by the time she slid into a seat at the back of the room. The lecture itself was about nanotechnology and potential applications in engineering and automation, and she found herself listening avidly.

The two-hour class seemed to fly past, and Mikayla had begun to wish that she was officially registered so she could learn more. But she was here for another important reason. She wound her way through the departing students and toward the front of the room, where Dr. Graiman was gathering up some notes. The woman looked to be in her mid-30s with long wavy brown hair and sea blue eyes. "Dr. Sarah Graiman?"

"Yes?"

She held out her hand. "Dr. Mikayla Ferrell. I'd like to speak to you for a moment, if you have time."

Dr. Graiman shook her hand firmly. "I'm on a tight schedule but if you're willing to come back to the parking lot with me, you can say what you need to on the way."

With a friendly smile, Mikayla spent the first few minutes of the walk praising Dr. Graiman's theories and offering her own relating to automation, attempting to break the ice.

For her part, Dr. Graiman seemed genuinely interested, but when they entered a long hallway that had fewer people around, she slowed her pace. "I admire your enthusiasm, but that's not why you're really here, is it?" she asked astutely.

Mikayla blinked, slightly perturbed that she'd been found out so quickly, but then again, Sarah Graiman was a genius. "No." She lowered her voice. "It's about KITT."

Dr. Graiman's look could have pierced steel. Immediately she grabbed Mikayla's arm and hauled her into an adjacent classroom which happened to be empty. After closing the door, she turned again, and the younger woman found herself staring at a completely different person as far as attitude was concerned. "How do you know about that?" Dr. Graiman asked in a dangerously even tone. Her stance was that of a predator waiting to strike.

She put her hands up in a gesture of surrender. "I'm an engineer at Knight Industries; Jennifer Knight asked me to research what happened to the K.I. Two Thousand. You're the only person I know of who could point me in the right direction."

"_Two_ Thousand?" Dr. Graiman asked, perplexed but still wary. "That hasn't existed for years."

"I know, but your father worked with Wilton Knight; did he tell you anything?"

Dr. Graiman regarded her for a moment, and then strode to the door. "Let's talk in a less public place." She led Mikayla to her car and indicated that she should get in, and they drove out of the campus and to a park nearby. It had begun to rain, and what people there were about rapidly sought shelter. Once the car was safely parked, she spoke again. "Start at the beginning."

Mikayla summarized her quest thus far, from her grandfather's tape to learning about Charles Graiman. "Since the KI2000 had been closely associated with FLAG, I figured that you might know something, since you're the director now."

"No, I never saw it," Dr. Graiman admitted. "Dad never talked about it. I didn't even know that he had been involved until 2008."

The revelation caused a cascade of emotions to hit her, and she shuddered. "He actually worked on the KI2000?" Something else nagged at her. The date seemed familiar. 2008… Another piece suddenly fell into place. "The Mustang," she breathed. "Your father built it."

"He did, and I'd prefer if you keep that to yourself. But as to our KITT's predecessor, I don't know much. After Dad died, his house was raided by the FBI before I could get there." Her voice chilled at the memory, even all these years later. "They took almost everything they perceived to be of value to them, including, I heard later, an incomplete Trans-Am shell."

Mikayla gasped with excitement. Here was clear evidence that Charles Graiman had indeed scrounged the remains of the KI2000, and possibly the AI also. "Did you ever get anything back?"

"Unfortunately not, but Dad was smarter than them. He had hidden copies of all his work in a secret location."

"What about the Two Thousand CPU itself? Was it ever found?"

"No, but not for their lack of trying." Dr. Graiman chuckled darkly. "Not long after that, I had everything from his house except the heavy furniture put in storage, because I just couldn't deal with it. I've tried to sort through it a few times since, but I'm simply too busy."

It was looking likely that she was about to run into a dead end, but had to keep some hope. "Dr. Graiman–" she began.

"Please, call me Sarah," the woman said. "Might as well if we're talking about this honestly."

"Sarah. My dream is to resurrect the KI2000. I'm sure that the Three Thousand has already done a great deal of good, but having the both of them would be better. Forgive my boldness, but would you be willing to allow me to search through your father's effects for any clues?"

A long moment passed as Sarah considered. "Not by yourself," she insisted then. "Forgive me, I don't trust many people these days, but you've got me curious now. The next time I have a day to spare, I'll contact you and we'll look together. If we actually do find what you're looking for, I'll give my blessing on it and provide any help you need."

Mikayla couldn't help but grin like a gleeful teenager. "Thank you so much!"

* * *

Sarah Graiman was as good as her word. On a cold day later in the month, Mikayla got a text from her to meet at a storage facility in San Fernando. The irony wasn't lost upon her, as San Fernando was the patron saint of the Spanish Army Corps of Engineers. Together they spent half the day in the huge locker, moving boxes around and examining crates.

"I got pros to pack it up," Sarah explained during a break, "and paid handsomely to make sure that everything was labeled and categorized. I didn't want anything getting misplaced. But if the CPU had actually been among the household stuff, the packers would've noticed, since it was so unusual."

"In that case, what if your father had already packed it away, so that it wouldn't attract undue attention? Was there a cabinet or other piece of furniture that he favoured?"

"Not that I can think of…" Sarah looked up at the corrugated metal ceiling of the unit with a frown. "Oh, there was. My grandmother's cedar hope chest. She'd kept all kinds of stuff in there but never let me look. After she died in 2000, Dad told me to wait until the time was right to open it."

Mikayla stared at her open-mouthed. "Did you say 2000? No, it can't be that simple."

Sarah brightened and said vehemently, "We need to find that chest."

It didn't take long, as the chest was one of the few items in the locker that wasn't crated or boxed. It had been wrapped with blankets and packaging tape to prevent it from being damaged or opened. A few careful uses of scissors were enough to free it from the wrappings, and a faint odour of cedar wafted up from the elegantly painted trunk.

"Go ahead," Mikayla said reverently, indicating it. "It's yours, after all."

Sarah reached down with shaking hands and lifted the lid, and the long-unused hinges squeaked in protest. Half of the interior was occupied by linens and trinkets, but the other half contained a plastic anti-static bin that surely must have been custom-made to fit. On the top was stuck a piece of tape bearing the letters MM written in Sharpie marker. "What does that mean?" she said in confusion. "I don't know anyone with those initials."

"I've seen that somewhere," Mikayla murmured. "Wait, that's 2000 in Roman numerals. That's it!" With a glance at Sarah for permission, she gently pulled the heavy bin out and set it on the floor. Then she flicked the tabs on the lid and opened it, her mind churning with anticipation, wondering what they would see.

The bin contained only three items. A curved piece of a smooth rigid material that felt like neither metal nor plastic; a battered black pressboard folder with the Knight Industries logo embossed on the front; and a strange black metal box the size of an old VCR that had several wires carefully coiled up and fastened to its side.

They both knew at once what it had to be. "It's KITT!" they chorused joyfully.

Speech was impossible for the next few moments as the two women tearfully embraced. The long-lost AI had been found. 


	4. Teamwork

Knight Rider and all associated characters (except mine) are owned by National Broadcasting Company and Universal Studios. All persons described herein are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. Copyright infringement is not intended

Chapter 4: Teamwork

January 2017

When Mikayla reported her miraculous discovery to Jennifer Knight, the ecstatic CEO had immediately given her a promotion, as well as instructions to assemble a team that would be tasked with rebuilding the Knight Industries 2000. They had a two-year timetable, and anything that was required would be locally sourced or custom made if necessary: "No inferior foreign parts," she'd said. A project of this magnitude was going to be an all-American effort and Ms. Knight promised to spare no expense.

It took her only a short time to compile a short list of the people who'd be most useful for this endeavour, and scheduled a meeting. When she entered the spartan R&D conference room and took her place at the head of the table, the five other people she'd chosen looked at her expectantly. One in particular, a slim middle-aged man of Asian descent, seemed especially keen. She swallowed. She'd never enjoyed speaking in front of an audience, but if she was going to be the leader on this project, she'd have to conquer that anxiety. Quickly she swiped through the records on the tablet in front of her, trying to remember all their names.

"Good morning," she said cordially, "and thank you for being here. Welcome to Session Zero of the Knight Industries Two Thousand Rebuild Project. We've been given the responsibility of reconstructing the platform from the ground up. I'm looking forward to working with you all. May I remind you that everything discussed in this room is strictly classified."

"Dr. Ferrell," the Asian man spoke up. "I'm Takumi Yamata. My father was a member of the design team that worked on the original, so when I received your invitation, I jumped at the chance to be involved."

"Yes, Dr. Yamata, I'm aware of the history, which is why you were first on the list. Welcome aboard." She reached across the table to shake his hand. "Now then," she addressed the rest of the table, "I chose each of you carefully based on your credentials and accomplishments, but I'd also hoped that more of you might know about our goal. It's my understanding that most of the original KI2000 development was also confidential."

"It was," said an older man who looked to be in his 60s.

Makayla glanced at the dossier. "Dr. Charles Davis?"

He nodded. "I was a young buck then, but I remember Wilton Knight speaking to us about his dream and what he hoped to accomplish. I was on a small team that built the network that stored the core code. We all had to sign a stack of non-disclosure agreements, and when the project was finished, the team was disbanded and everyone was reassigned."

"Is that so? Are any of them still working for Knight Industries?" she asked hopefully.

"I think I'm the last holdout," he said with an ironic smirk. "The rest have either retired or moved on to other things. I never thought I'd see the day when I'd be restoring the very machine that I'd helped to build in the first place. I'm getting close to retirement myself."

"I'm sure your input will be extremely valuable," she said. This was a promising start: to have two people on her team who actually knew of the KI2000, which gave them a huge advantage right out of the gate. "For those of you who are unfamiliar with the subject at hand, please allow me to brief you. The Knight Industries Two Thousand was a car. A very special car, in fact. It was equipped with a state-of-the-art computer system that could assist its driver in various ways, including accepting vocal commands and enabling independent operation."

"In other words," a man about her own age with messy brown hair who sat on the other side of the table said cynically, "a car that could drive itself and had an onboard Siri. Nothing fantastic about that."

"It certainly was fantastic for 1982, Mr. Miller," she said firmly. "It contained technology that was over 30 years ahead of its time. That wasn't the truly special thing about it, though. The car was controlled by an artificial intelligence that was called KITT."

Dr. Yamata's mouth hung open for a second. "So that's what my father meant. He talked about KITT from time to time when his mind was fading. I always thought he was referring to a person."

"KITT was effectively a person," Dr. Davis said. "I never had the opportunity to speak to him directly, but I heard things from the technicians that were called upon to help repair him after field operations." He chuckled. "The driver tended to abuse the car a lot and the full-time engineers sometimes couldn't cope. Anyway, KITT could speak his mind and he even had a rather snarky sense of humour."

"All that aside," said Miller, still skeptical, "building a car isn't exactly within this company's realm of expertise."

Mikayla had a hunch that this person might be trouble if she let his insubordination go too far, and decided to take a page out of Jennifer Knight's playbook. She stood up and glared directly at him. "Your attitude is atrocious, Mr. Miller. Why are you here?"

He was taken aback at her change in demeanour. "What are you talking about?"

"You accepted my invitation to this team, so you must have a reason for it. Tell me why are you here, in your own words." Out of the corner of her eye she saw Dr. Davis give a slight nod, and realized that he had probably been on the receiving end of the same lecture at least once. He would definitely be an asset.

"I… uh…" The young man looked quickly around the table but everyone else remained silent. "It sounded cool."

She slapped one hand on the table, annoyed now. "That's not good enough. Every single employee at Knight Industries is here for one reason only. If that's not your reason, you have no business being on this project. Answer me properly or you're out."

He sagged in his chair, but his expression was still defiant. Then he stood and muttered, "Sorry for wasting your time," before leaving the room.

The rest of the team applauded as she sat back down, relief flowing through her. "Thank you, I wasn't sure if I could get him on board or not."

"Be that as it may, he had a point." The speaker was a brown-haired, fairly large-boned woman. "We don't exactly have the Haynes Owner's Workshop Manual for that car."

"No, Dr. Walsh, but we do have this." She picked up the plastic bin that she'd brought, put it on the table, and brought out the old black folder with the faded Knight Industries symbol on the front. "This is KITT's Emergency Schematic Blueprint. It should give us something to start from, at least." She spread some of the sheets across the table.

"Yes, I remember," said Dr. Davis with a reflective expression. "Its frame was built in the shape of a Trans-Am."

Dr. Yamata eyed the documents eagerly. "This is a giant bonus. But here's our first obstacle. The production of the Trans-Am ceased in 2002. Where would we get parts?"

Dr. Walsh asked, "Does the original frame still exist?"

"No," Mikayla said, forbearing to mention what Sarah Graiman had told her. "I found out that it was scrapped and most of it sold to various research centers around the country."

"So how about we start with the next best thing?" Dr. Yamata suggested. "If we're looking for as close a match as possible to the original, let's find a modern equivalent."

Mikayla grinned. "That's easy. A Camaro."

Dr. Davis eyed her appreciatively. "You know your cars."

"My granddad had me taking cars apart when I was old enough to hold a torque wrench."

"Impressive," remarked Alex MacGillivray, who up to now hadn't spoken. He was slightly older than she was, slim with bronze hair, and a Scottish brogue in his voice. "It's little wonder why you were chosen to lead this project. You probably know more about automotive engineering than most of us here." He smiled to indicate that he meant no insult.

"Which brings me to my next point," said Dr. Yamata. "What to do concerning the car's exterior shell. Given the punishment that a field vehicle would take, it has to be durable."

Mikayla replied, "Archived documents referenced a substance called…" she had to consult her notes in order to wrap her tongue around the name, "Tri-Helical Plasteel 1000 Molecular Bonded Shell. It was developed by Wilton Knight and was so top-secret that he entrusted only parts of the formula to separate people, so that no one person would be able to duplicate it."

"That's right," Dr. Davis confirmed. "A surface coated in the formula could withstand impacts of over twenty-five thousand foot-pounds of force. Basically, anything from a pebble to a grenade wouldn't make so much as a scratch on it."

The others stared at him with expressions of awe.

"Unfortunately," Mikayla said, hating to disillusion them, "All the people who knew a segment of the formula are now dead, as far as I've been able to determine." She'd considered whether Jennifer Knight knew, but then again, the CEO wasn't a scientist. "However," she held up a hand, and reached into the box again to bring out the piece that she'd recovered from the late Charles Graiman's effects. "This, my friends, is our lucky charm: a piece of the original that I'd had the good fortune to obtain."

Dr. Yamata practically launched himself out of his chair. "For obvious reasons I won't ask where you found that, but if we can get a chemical analysis, we'll be in business."

"What else have you got in that magic box?" Dr. Walsh asked with a sly look. "I have a feeling that you're saving the best for last."

With a triumphant grin, Mikayla slid the bin to the middle of the table so they could all see what lay in the bottom. A deafening silence fell upon them as they recognized the unmistakable shape of a CPU casing.

Dr. Davis was the first to speak, in a solemn murmur. "Is that KITT?"

"I believe it is," said Mikayla. "And we owe it to him to create the best body for him that we can. Let's do this!"

There were high-fives all around the table.


	5. Testing

Knight Rider and all associated characters (except mine) are owned by National Broadcasting Company and Universal Studios. All persons described herein are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. Copyright infringement is not intended.

Chapter 5: Testing

February 2019

Mikayla stood in the open garage doorway and watched with a deep satisfaction as Taki and Charles (she'd never been comfortable with calling the older man "Charlie") gave the newly-completed custom Camaro 2SS shell a once-over with their instruments. It had taken two years and many, many headaches, but the team had done it. All that remained was to connect the CPU and do some final tests.

Alex nudged her with one elbow. "This is your baby," he said. "You should do the honours."

Pride swelled in her heart. When she'd begun this, she'd hoped to just find the KI2000 AI. But she'd never expected to be promoted to the lead engineer involved in its rebuilding. She walked over to a nearby workstation and, after disconnecting a temporary power supply, gently lifted up the VCR-sized black metal box that housed the precious KI2000 CPU. Several wires protruded from the casing and tiny red LED lights were illuminated, indicating that its battery backup was functional even after all the years of having been in storage. Carefully moving over to the car, she set the casing into the MBS-coated housing that served as an extra layer of protection in case the car frame was damaged.

The situation moved her deeply. This was the culmination of her life's work, and she was assailed by emotions. Elation for the end result, and sadness for the fact that by the end of the week it was likely that she wouldn't see it again. Once testing was complete it would be handed over to its new driver and sent out into the field.

She blinked tears out of her eyes and tried to refocus, knowing that she needed to be clear-headed and steady of hand to properly connect the CPU to the rest of the car's systems. "Clear the area," she advised. "The AI might behave unpredictably when he wakes up." Behind her, she could hear the muted reactions of her other teammates as they moved away, taking their instruments and tools with them. Then she reached into the spaghetti of wiring that was the CPU compartment and painstakingly secured each wire and component. With an excess of diligence, she checked everything twice before closing the hood.

Now the moment of truth. She slid her fingers under the driver's side door handle and its fingerprint scanner lit up in green, identifying her as being one of the people allowed access. In a smooth much-practiced motion she swung the door open and slid into the driver's seat. The dashboard was much less cluttered than the 1982 Trans-Am's had been, due to multiple layout redesigns that had caused her many sleepless nights and arguments with her colleagues. At her insistence they'd incorporated the look of the original KI2000 harmonic modulator and used the same vocal samples so that the voice would be unchanged. Above the gear shift was a touch screen bordered by a series of buttons that could function as backup controls in case the main computer was inoperative.

She pressed the Power button on the dashboard and waited until the systems completed their self-checks. "Hello, KITT. Are you awake?"

There was no response. Her heart sank.

The next few hours were an exercise in frustration for them all as they ran multiple programs and tests to ensure that the car's systems were working flawlessly. The oddest thing was, however, during that entire time, KITT never spoke. They had surmised at first that he would only speak to his driver, but after reviewing archived footage and mission reports it was discovered that KITT had frequent discussions with not only Michael Knight but with his main support engineers Bonnie Barstow and April Curtis. Then they considered that if the AI had developed a human-like personality, it was possible that he was now having some form of cognitive dissonance. It was likened to a prisoner being released after long years of incarceration into a new world that he knew almost nothing about.

They had to ease KITT back into reality. But how to do it?

"How about we take him to his natural environment?" Mikayla asked as the tension started to get the better of her. "We can't fully test his primary functions here anyway." She peeked into the cabin where a tablet displayed a readout with a red and green progress graph. Headings included High Speed Maneuvering, Structural Integrity, Nano-skin Modification Speed, and High Velocity Braking.

Takumi brandished his tablet at her. "This car is an advanced piece of technology. You can't expect us to just take it for a joyride," he said sarcastically. "We're engineers, not professional drivers. Where would we find one on such short notice?"

Something clicked in the back of her mind. Jennifer Knight must have known about her leisure pursuits, so there was evidently more than one purpose for her assignment to this project. She straightened up and gave her colleague a droll look. "Are you kidding?"

* * *

It had been a long time coming, but at last, the moment that she had been waiting for since she was a child was finally here. The afternoon sun glinted off the sleek black Camaro as it was offloaded from the flatbed truck onto the approach road to the Knight Industries test track. A tech in a white coverall gestured toward her, a black helmet in his hand, and she took it. She wasn't planning to do anything truly dangerous, and only wanted to assess the general functions of the car, but her grandfather had always stressed the importance of safety. "Here we go," she commented, half to herself and half to the car as she opened the door, settled herself into the driver's seat, and fastened the safety straps out of habit.

Reaching past the steering column, she pressed the Power button. The dashboard lit up and the systems began their self-check. When the bootup was complete, she took a tremulous breath and spoke directly to the car. "Hello, KITT."

There was silence. Just like all the other times.

She shook her head ruefully. "I guess we're really going back to basics," she murmured, and then cleared her throat. "Your designation is Knight Industries Two Thousand, KITT for short. Your serial number is Alpha Delta 227 529. Please verify." The touch screen immediately displayed the correct designation and specifications.

"Can you see me?" A light flashed on the dashboard, indicating that the interior cameras were functioning. "Excellent. Next question: who am I?" This was another test to confirm that the system memory was integrated properly and the facial recognition was active. It had been loaded with all its prior mission files as well as a database of the current Knight Industries employees. A holographic heads-up display illuminated the inside of the windshield with a photo of her along with her employment record. "Very good. Display off."

So far, since she hadn't received any vocal output, she decided that some pleasantries wouldn't hurt. "I'm glad to finally meet you, KITT. I've been looking forward to working with you." She turned the key in the ignition and the custom-made turbojet engine thrummed to life, bringing a smile to her face. "You're sounding great. I hope you've connected well to your new drive system. You'll find it quite satisfactory."

At last, KITT responded. She heard a soft electronic swoosh as the forward scanner came online, and then he spoke. "This system is largely solar-powered and recycles 91% of its expended energy, allowing a ratio of approximately 167 miles traveled for every gallon of fuel burned."

Mikayla let out a quiet gasp of joy. It was the same voice all right: the easy tenor with a slight nasal Boston twang that she'd heard many times in the archived recordings. "Good morning, KITT," she greeted eagerly. "Let's go for a drive." She wrapped her right hand around the gear shift but it wouldn't move. Was it stuck? No, more likely the AI wasn't allowing her to shift it. "KITT?"

"You are not the proper owner of this vehicle, so either get out or I will take the appropriate measures."

She crossed her arms in front of her; she'd anticipated some reluctance from the AI. "If you scan my vital signs you can determine if I'm being truthful. This vehicle is owned by Knight Industries. I'm Mikayla Ferrell, lead engineer on the KI2000 rebuild project. Will you please allow me to drive you for some tests?"

Pause. "Very well."

She smiled. "Thank you, KITT." This time the gear shift moved forward easily, and she pressed the accelerator. Tiny lights crept upwards on the pedal – another of the little details that she had insisted upon – and the car began to move forward. "Okay, let's see how you do." She put the Camaro through its paces, from standard driving maneuvers to high-speed runs, J-turns, and drifting. It performed fluidly and was much more responsive than any other car that she'd driven, thanks to the computer assist.

As she was returning to the approach ramp, a low-pitched ringing permeated the cabin. "You're receiving a call from Dr. Takumi Yamata," KITT informed her.  
"Put him on please," she requested, and an image of a harried Takumi appeared on the heads-up display. "Yes, Taki, what's up?"

"Are you still at the track?" her colleague asked urgently. "I just heard that some government mucky-muck learned of the project and wants to see the car."

"Oh no, and furthermore, _no_!" she replied firmly, as her seat bones registered a subtle change in the engine's vibrations. Evidently KITT didn't like this news either. "To my knowledge, this project is still considered classified, and head office hasn't approved a viewing yet. That guy doesn't have the authority to see jack. Besides, testing is far from complete. I don't even know if the nano-skin works."

"I suggest you get back here asap," he said. Behind him could be heard several voices raised in some kind of argument. "I'll try to cover for you." He hung up.

"What does mucky-muck mean?" asked KITT, startling her. It was the first time he'd spoken to her without being prompted. "I don't have that term in my language database."

She chuckled. "It's a jargon term that refers to a pompous official," she told him. "Taki doesn't have any patience with that kind of person, it seems."

By this time, she'd reached the area where the flatbed was parked and the techs were waiting. She brought the car to a stop, removed her helmet, and opened the driver's side window. "I just got a call from the office," she yelled. "If nobody minds, I'm driving KITT back. Consider it a street test." They waved at her in assent. After waving back she tossed the helmet into the passenger seat and put the car in gear again. Quickly she checked that the temporary license placard was still in place in the rear window. She wouldn't be able to legally drive the car on the city streets without it. "What about you, KITT? Do you agree?"

Again there was the slight hesitation. "Very well."

When they were on their way she asked, "Is something wrong?"

"There is nothing wrong with my systems," came the reply.

"That's not what I meant." She had a feeling that she already knew the answer, but wanted to hear it for herself. "Why are you loath to let me operate you?"

"I'm programmed to respond to my driver. You aren't officially designated as such."

Mikayla nodded. "That's true, although I'm thankful for your cooperation so far. But I think there's something else too. You miss Michael Knight."

Abruptly the operation mode tab on the dashboard switched from Normal to Autopilot, and the gull-wing steering wheel wrenched itself out of her hands. The car pulled over to the side of the street and stopped. Mikayla sat in shock for a few moments at the AI's sudden display of independence, and then took a deep calming breath. Such a reaction wouldn't have been surprising coming from a human, and she had to remind herself that KITT had been known to have emotional behaviours. "Oh, I shouldn't have said that. KITT… I'm sorry."

Several minutes passed and KITT said nothing. Mikayla understood why, but they were losing time and he needed to know that she was on his side. Explaining her reasons was the best way to accomplish that. "May I tell you why you were rebuilt and reactivated?"

"You may." His tone was flat.

"It was because I believed in you," she began. "Ever since I saw a recording of you participating in the Alternative 2000 race, I knew you were special. I just didn't know how special until relatively recently. You're one of the most advanced AI creations in the world and are capable of amazing things. All you need is a team that can support you."

"I had a team once."

"Yes, I've read the archives," she said crisply. "They and you were torn apart twice, on the orders of ignorant bureaucrats who could only understand money instead of your true value: the ability to make a difference. KITT, please give me a chance to earn your trust."

His response was slow, and she heard a hint of bitterness. "You are not Michael."

She sighed. Ms. Knight had warned her that he was too attached to his first driver to accept anyone else. "No, I'm not. I get it: too many people have lied to you and treated you like no more than a hunk of metal and plastic. I never will. If I forget that, you have permission to remind me. Truce?"

After a few seconds, the operation mode switched to Normal. "Truce."

"Thank you, KITT," she said warmly and took them back onto the road, smiling at her success.


	6. Chase

Knight Rider and all associated characters (except mine) are owned by National Broadcasting Company and Universal Studios. All persons described herein are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. Copyright infringement is not intended.

Chapter 6: Chase

Having reached an agreement, human and AI drove unobtrusively through the afternoon traffic. Despite the rigorous maneuvers it had undergone at the track, the engine was running at top efficiency and well within temperature parameters.

They had gone only a few blocks when KITT spoke up. "There appears to be a white Kia SUV following us."

"It's probably some company people who want to make sure that their investment doesn't disappear," Mikayla said, unconcerned. "I wouldn't blame them."

"That's a logical assumption, but I took the liberty of running the license plate through the DMV database and it doesn't match any vehicle that's registered to Knight Industries, its employees, or known suppliers."

"Maybe they're just going in the same direction?" She peered into the rear-view mirror and could see that there were two people in the SUV. "Who is the vehicle registered to?"

KITT replied promptly, "A car rental business in East Los Angeles."

"Something definitely isn't right. If I were the paranoid type, I'd think a competitor was trying to get a closer look at you. But nobody should know since this project is supposed to be classified." She quickly checked the side mirrors before changing lanes and turning at the next intersection. "It might be better to not take a direct route back to the facility."

"That's a wise precaution."

Another thought struck her. "In addition to your exterior cameras, you should be able to access traffic surveillance. Can you determine who is in the vehicle?"

Several windows popped up on the windshield display. "The driver is Steven Miller, electronics designer, formerly employed by Knight Industries."

Indignant, she said, "Him? I threw him off the project during the first meeting. He was snarky and undisciplined, and I felt that having him on the team would be detrimental."

"It sounds like a good decision, if you ask me," KITT commented. "According to his record, he was fired six months ago for threatening his supervisor. The second person in the vehicle is Frederick 'Fox' Harrison, a corporate investigator."

Mikayla frowned and gripped the steering wheel. "The only thing they're going to be investigating is our back end." She focused on the road ahead and began to weave through the traffic in an attempt to lose the SUV. Despite her careful movements over the next half-mile, the SUV stubbornly remained behind them. At one point it was following so closely that it made Mikayla extremely nervous. "I'm not comfortable with this. If we have to stop quickly, something might hit us."

"It wouldn't do any damage to me," KITT pointed out.

"Yes, but with the amount of traffic around right now, a chain reaction could result and people would be hurt. We need to get off this boulevard." She seized an opportunity to slip in between two other cars and make a right turn. Once on a clear road she accelerated somewhat.

KITT warned her, "You're exceeding the area's posted speed limit by fifteen percent."

"I know," she responded, gritting her teeth. "But they aren't showing any sign of giving up. Things just got more complicated." As they approached the next intersection, she feinted to the right, and then at the last moment sent the car into a slide that propelled it to the left instead. "I would've preferred to not do any major stunts today." With a grunt of effort, she got the car straightened, and then increased speed. "I'm not in the mood."

"I fail to understand why you're being so negative," said KITT as they sped along. "All indications are that you're a highly competent driver." Images of her driving record and racing awards flashed across the display.

"On a _racetrack_, KITT," she said breathlessly. "Not at high speeds in an urban area!" She eased off the gas, downshifted, and sent them skidding around another corner, barely missing two parked cars. Shifting back into overdrive, she laid on the accelerator again and the car surged ahead. She hazarded a glance into the rear-view mirror. The pursuing SUV didn't make the corner cleanly and scraped along the parked cars, tearing off the wing mirrors. "I can't help but have some respect for Miller though. He's tenacious."

The display lit up with a map of the vicinity, showing their position and that of the car behind them. "I'm plotting the best course to take in order to elude our pursuers," KITT reported.

"Great. Can you forecast the traffic flow? We don't want to hit anything if it can be helped."

"By using GPS, radar, and real-time satellite imagery, I've all the data necessary to safely navigate," KITT said, with a touch of astonishment in his tone as he accessed his new functions. "However, there are always unexpected events." He paused and then said, "Accelerate, now."

There was no time to argue, so she had to trust him. She pushed the pedal to the floor and the car raced through a red light, passing through an opening in the cross-traffic. The SUV driver was forced to slow down in order to find a window to follow.

"This is insane!" Mikayla shouted.

"Turn right in 275 yards," KITT suggested smoothly, as if he'd chosen to ignore her fearful outburst. "That road leads into a less densely populated area, and therefore reduces the chances of bystanders being injured if the SUV continues to pursue us."

She made the turn. "That's some really good thinking," she complimented.

"One of my primary directives is the preservation of human life."

"I'm aware of that." She glanced around and couldn't see any sign of the SUV, but that didn't mean that they were gone. "I never thought I'd be testing you this much today. How well has your CPU integrated with the modern systems so far?"

"Surprisingly well. I've ascertained that this vehicle has 67% more overall power and 25% more base speed than my original frame. Many of the on-board devices are similar but more efficient than those I had previously."

With a smile, she said, "The choice of equipment was deliberate. My team and I wanted you to feel as comfortable as possible with the transition." As they drove through another intersection, she looked down the right-hand cross street and spotted an SUV of the same colour as the one that had been following them. "Is that the same car as before?"

KITT's exterior camera and satellite imager zoomed in. "It appears to be; the license plate matches. I'm uncertain if they noticed us."

"Then let's test something else. Set the nano-skin to standard white."

The car's exterior flickered and rippled, its colour gradually transforming from black to white. Even the detailing altered in subtle ways, from the absence of striping to a slightly different rear spoiler. Anyone who looked at it now would see a completely normal car.

Mikayla grinned in awe and relief. "It worked." She slowed the car a bit and moved into the right lane.

"Nano-skin modification speed: 23 seconds," KITT noted.

"Good, well within spec, but you already know that."

"That's correct," he confirmed with some smugness. "Will you tell me more about my new capabilities?"

She raised her eyebrows, intrigued by the question. "You have all the pertinent information in your data banks, you shouldn't need to ask me."

"Perhaps I'm testing you now," he said with a whimsical air.

Despite herself, she laughed. He must be feeling more at ease with her if he was joking around. "All right. This frame is coated with a derivative of the Tri-Helical Molecular Bonded Shell developed by Wilton Knight. It's the closest we could synthesize because the original formula was lost with the deaths of the people who knew its components, and chemical analysis of an original coated piece couldn't give us a 100% match. The shortfall is compensated for by the integrated nanotech skin, which absorbs kinetic energy and redirects it toward the power cells, making it self-powering and self-repairing. The skin can be programmed to refract different wavelengths of light in order to alter the car's outward appearance. Is that sufficient?"

"For the moment."

"One thing I probably should tell you," she added, "is that in keeping with the spirit of your original design and programming, your defense mechanisms are non-lethal."

KITT said gratefully, "I appreciate the consideration. I was never meant to be a weapon."

"And if I have any say in the matter, you won't be." She patted the dashboard.

* * *

When they arrived back at the R&D facility and Mikayla parked KITT in the spacious garage, the rest of her team swarmed around the car with instruments to check if he'd experienced any strain or damage while out of their hands.

"What was all the ruckus I heard when you called?" she asked Takumi. "It's not like Pascal to get so worked up." Their supervisor, who reported to VP Cross, had minimal involvement in the project at best, but still kept an eye on their progress.

"Mr. Cross accused him of leaking the completion date to government officials."

"Pascal? He wouldn't do anything to jeopardize this." She was outraged. What on Earth was Mr. Cross thinking?

"We all know that, but it took a lot of convincing to get Cross to back down. Pascal is on notice now though, and he's understandably upset. In the meantime, one Senator Bellis wants to see the final results for an evaluation."

"Typical politician," she grumbled. "Always about the money."

Taki looked thoughtful. "I'm not so sure. From what I've heard of the man, his interests lie mostly toward public safety." He pulled up a relevant article on his tablet to show her. Bellis was a distinguished-looking man with a snow-white goatee.

"Still, we should all be very careful," she cautioned. "KITT and I were chased halfway here by Miller and some investigator, so I'm certain there's more going on than we know."

He looked startled, and then nodded solemnly. "I'll have security increased."

"Warn the others too. Nothing must happen to KITT. Not now." 


	7. Selection

Knight Rider and all associated characters (except mine) are owned by National Broadcasting Company and Universal Studios. All persons described herein are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. Copyright infringement is not intended.

Chapter 7: Selection

Over the next few days, the engineering team and support technicians were noted to be spending more time in the vicinity of KITT's garage than was strictly necessary. A security detail was rotated through the hours of the night. Mikayla and Alex worked tirelessly to ensure that none of KITT's systems could be traced or hacked.

The only unusual event occurred in the wee hours of one morning, where Mikayla was roused from her bed by an urgent phone call from one of the night watchmen, who said that KITT was behaving strangely. When she arrived twenty minutes later, after breaking a number of traffic laws to reach the facility more quickly, she heard KITT's mournful cries as she rushed into the garage. The sound was eerie; were he human she would've thought he was experiencing some kind of nightmare. Could an AI have nightmares?

She opened the car door and settled into the driver's seat. "It's okay, KITT, I'm here," she soothed as she leaned forward to hold the steering wheel in the closest thing to a hug that she could give him. "KITT, wake up." She ran one hand across the dashboard.

"Dr. Ferrell?" he murmured.

"Yes, I'm here. You're safe." Sitting back, she relaxed into the seat, letting him feel her presence. "I think you were dreaming. If you want to talk about it, I'll listen." He was silent for a long time, but she waited patiently.

Finally he said, "I felt… emptiness. Loneliness."

Mikayla tried to find a context for the statement. "Were you aware of your surroundings while you were stored?"

"Not… entirely," he replied quietly. "Dr. Graiman was kind enough to supply my CPU with a long-lasting battery backup that preserved my core, but it didn't provide enough power for me to access any exterior sensors."

She was horrified. "So, all the time you were in that box, you were deaf, dumb, and blind? I couldn't imagine how you lasted so long without going insane!"

"I remained inactive most of the time," he said. "Before powering me down, Dr. Graiman explained that it was likely to be a long time before someone found me, and that I mustn't give up. But…" He paused, as if considering whether to mention something. "That wasn't the only thing that was distressing me."

She resumed her gentle stroking of the dashboard. "I think I understand. You're still missing your driver, too. You're frightened of what the future might hold."

"It's more than that," KITT admitted, and then told her a heartbreaking tale of how, in both his previous shells, he had been linked to his drivers in a very close way. Michael Knight had always worn a com-link that enabled them to communicate no matter where they happened to be. His replacement, Shawn McCormick, had had a microchip implanted in her brain as a life-saving measure after being shot, and it was discovered that KITT could link with her through the chip. But now, both those connections were severed, leaving him bereft of the human bond that he desperately craved.

"I'm so sorry, KITT," she said, hugging the steering wheel again. "We knew how close you were to your partner from reading the archived reports, but nothing like that was ever mentioned. If it's any consolation, I'm willing to be a friend. You can talk to me any time, at least until your new driver is chosen. The operative interviews begin tomorrow."

"Yes, I know." He didn't sound happy about it.

"I'm neither a psychologist nor an expert in field operations," she told him candidly, "but I'll make sure to be there throughout the process. I can also relay any doubts you have to my supervisors, although I don't expect them to fully understand that you're capable of your own evaluation."

"Thank you for that, Dr. Ferrell." His voice became stronger and had less of the haunted quality to it. "Would… would you stay? For a while?" he asked hopefully.

With a compassionate smile, she gave the dashboard a final pat. "Of course, KITT." She exited the car briefly to pull a blanket from one of the garage's lockers, and then reclined comfortably in the front seat. It felt strange at first to be babysitting an AI, but she was reminded of the hours she'd spent by her brother's bedside when he'd first come home, tired and crushed both physically and mentally. Her mere presence was a reassurance.

When the rest of the team arrived a few hours later, they found her fast asleep along with the peacefully dormant car.

* * *

Despite being the team lead, Mikayla had to argue her way through the department hierarchy in order to get copies of the information concerning the prospective drivers. Anyone who was going to work with KITT not only had to be screened for ability, she insisted, but empathy as well. The AI needed someone who was willing to accept him as a partner, not just a fancy tricked-out car. Once she got her hands on the documentation, she supplemented it with searches of her own. Of the half-dozen qualified applicants, only one seemed to be acceptable to her.

Peter Tomlinson was a former police officer; blond and blue eyed, with an angular face. He'd burned out after unsuccessfully trying to talk down an agitated suspect. The man had shot him in the shoulder before being subdued, necessitating a lengthy hospital stay and months of rehabilitation. Tomlinson had been well known by his colleagues to be a compassionate man who preferred to defuse a standoff by talking, resorting to violence only when necessary.

Mikayla recalled from the archived reports that Michael Knight had been similar. He had never carried a gun while in the field, although he'd used villains' weaponry against them from time to time. He didn't kill unless he had to; his preferred tactic was to take a person by surprise and disable them via hand-to-hand combat, or in a pinch, have KITT protect him until he could turn the situation to his advantage. He was bright, agile, and could think outside the box – qualities that more than made up for his impulsiveness. There was no wonder why the partnership worked so well; the few times his carelessness got KITT damaged notwithstanding.

The selection procedure consisted of not only personal interviews with all the drivers, but psychological testing and weapons handling. Then followed a one-on-one conversation with KITT himself before he would consent to letting them drive him through a specially-constructed course on the test track. Two prospects were eliminated when it was discovered that they had deep-seated prejudices. A third was outright frightened by the idea that a computer could actually be intelligent. The fourth was recovering from alcohol addiction and it was decided to exclude him on the basis that there was a high probability he would relapse under stress.

By the middle of the day, KITT was quite disgusted and it took a lot of persuasion from both Mikayla and Charles for him to acquiesce to continuing. The remaining two candidates would drive the course later that afternoon.

"I've never seen such closed-minded people," KITT groused during the break. "I don't know if any of them would make a good partner."

"I thought Tomlinson was the best of the lot so far," Mikayla told him. "I'd reserve judgment until he drives you."

The situation became more concerning when word came down that Mr. Cross was going to attend the tryouts so he could see the performances for himself. Mikayla couldn't help but wonder why. On the surface it seemed reasonable: given the expense that the company was putting toward this project, the Vice President of R&D had every right to verify that it was going to be successful. On the other hand, he hadn't been much involved up until now, other than accepting the team's progress reports every fortnight. It didn't sit well with her.

At KITT's request, Mikayla drove him to the test track herself, to ensure that the engine was warmed up and the systems were balanced. Once there, she gave him a pat of encouragement before handing the ignition key and a helmet over to the first contender, a buff former Marine by the name of Chris Fenton. She walked to the side of the track where Mr. Cross was already waiting.

It turned out that neither driver was able to steer the course flawlessly. To Mikayla's trained eye, it wasn't even that difficult. Fenton had a tendency to accelerate too quickly and was hard on the braking, while Tomlinson overestimated the turns. Mr. Cross, with displeasure evident on his face, strode over to KITT just as Tomlinson was clambering out of the car. "I can't believe what I just saw. According to the engineers, the vehicle performed much better during testing. What are your excuses for such a poor showing?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Cross," said Tomlinson, who was quite flustered at having his drive go so badly. "The steering column felt too loose to me. I'd need more time to get used to it."

"We can't spare the time," Cross grumbled. "We're under pressure to have a field agent available within the week."

KITT spoke of his own volition. "There's nothing wrong with my steering column. The fault lay in the handling."

Cross was stunned into silence for a moment at KITT's unexpected input.

Fenton threw his hands in the air. "That does it, I refuse to have my every move critiqued by a computer. It spent most of the drive telling me to not abuse the brakes. Thank you, Mr. Cross, for the opportunity, but I don't think I can work like this." He whirled and strode off.

"Your assessment wasn't required, Two Thousand," Cross snapped. "As of now, Tomlinson has proved to me that he's an excellent match for a potential field agent, so you will allow him to operate you properly."

"My statement was based on data analysis, Mr. Cross," KITT said, unperturbed. "I am a high-performance vehicle. In 82% of my prior assignments, precise maneuvering was vital to a mission's success. Mr. Tomlinson might otherwise be a good candidate, but he drove me like a Jeep." The distaste in his voice was plain.

Tomlinson stared at the ground in embarrassment. Mikayla couldn't help but giggle and had to put a hand across her mouth to hide her mirth. Trust KITT to know!

The VP's face flushed, and then he abruptly turned to Mikayla. "You programmed it to say that!" he accused.

It was her turn to be stunned. "No sir, I didn't. KITT is completely cognizant of his own functionality and can determine whether the physical and mental faculties of the driver are adequate for the task." She also knew from the archived mission reports that KITT had many disagreements with Michael Knight concerning his recklessness, but had almost always supported him in the end.

"Oh, it has a name now?" Cross asked sarcastically.

"Why not?" she responded. "Knight Industries Two Thousand is a mouthful, and I think he prefers KITT anyway." Then she clamped her mouth shut, aware that her comment would likely be perceived as obstinate.

Cross took a breath to say something, and then closed his mouth as he changed his mind. "Miss Ferrell, I would like to see you in my office at 8 AM tomorrow. We have much to discuss. In the meantime, return the Two Thousand to the facility." He marched away, leaving her with a feeling of dread inside.

Tomlinson walked slowly up to her and pulled off the helmet. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't get the feel of it. I don't understand why the AI is behaving this way."

Mikayla squeezed his shoulder in a friendly gesture. "I do. Don't worry, I don't think KITT dislikes you. He just has a high standard." She waited until Cross had gotten into his car and driven out of sight before nudging Tomlinson's arm. "Come on, ride shotgun with me and I'll show you how it's done."

She took him around the course twice, at a speed a good deal higher than he had, which resulted in him clinging onto the edge of his seat. KITT's judgment of him had been correct: for all his exemplary record, he wasn't accustomed to performance driving. When she stopped the car, his face was pale. "Peter, if Mr. Cross wasn't so insistent on taking short cuts, I'd be willing to train you. You'd be a fine agent if you can get some practice in."

"Yeah." He unbuckled himself and got out, then gave a few reluctant pats on the car's roof. "Thanks for the drive."

"You're welcome," KITT said before Mikayla could.

"Honestly," Tomlinson said with a thoughtful expression, "I don't know if I could get used to having a car that talks back. I don't even like to use a GPS unless I have to." He handed the helmet to her, and walked back to his own car.

"You didn't need to be so hard on him," she admonished KITT gently. "But I comprehend your reasons. My concern now is that Mr. Cross probably has it in for me because he thinks I've biased you against any new prospects."

"I base my conclusions on statistical data," he reiterated. "I can't be biased."

The statement was true, and yet it wasn't true. She'd known from the beginning that he'd developed attachments, although he would never admit to it. "It's okay, KITT, I like to think I know you better than that." She restarted the engine. "But don't worry, I can keep a secret. Let's get back." 


	8. Complications

Knight Rider and all associated characters (except mine) are owned by National Broadcasting Company and Universal Studios. All persons described herein are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. Copyright infringement is not intended.

Chapter 8: Complications

As expected, Mr. Cross began to grill her from the moment she stepped into his office the next morning.

"Miss Ferrell, how long have you been working on the KI2000 project?"

It seemed to be an unnecessary question, since he'd known when the project began. "Two years."

"At any point during that period, have you had access to the unit's programming?"

She bridled inwardly at his choice of words. As if KITT were a "unit"! "Yes, in order to ensure the correct integration and operation of the systems. However–"

He cut her off. "The unit hasn't been performing up to expectations. Could this be attributed to a flaw in the programming?"

Upon hearing that, Mikayla was beset by apprehension. Did he believe that she had sabotaged the project? Setting her jaw, she said, "No, sir. I and the other engineers on the team know exactly what the issue is."

He cocked his head to one side. "And what might that be?"

"KITT's personality."

Cross glared at her in annoyance. "Don't patronize me. The Two Thousand is a computer, it doesn't _have_ a personality."

"He's an artificial intelligence. He's self-aware, capable of learning, and he can anticipate his driver's needs. Do you know of any computer that can read manuals or quote from classic films?"

He snorted derisively. "Of course, it's called Alexa. I'm not buying your explanation, Miss Ferrell. More likely, you or one of your team altered the programming to cause the Two Thousand to exhibit false operation."

"No, sir. His core code, that which makes him who he is, was never touched," she averred. "He may never take a life or willingly cause his driver's life to be endangered. He will respond to the orders of his driver unless those orders conflict with his core directives. Have you seen any of KITT's specs at all? You must have, given that you've been the main overseer of this project."

Cross put his hands behind his back. "My position is of no concern to you," he said, ignoring her question. Then he continued implacably, "The matter at hand is your complicity in causing a valuable project to be ineffective. That car cost more than twenty-eight million dollars to build, Miss Ferrell. Either you correct the problem by tomorrow, or I will have Dr. Yamata do so in your place."

Her jaw dropped. "You're demoting me?" Considering the amount of time and effort she'd put into the project, this was ludicrous, along with the fact that he refused to refer to her by her proper title.

He let out a mirthless laugh, and poked a finger at her. "I'll more than demote you, I'll make sure you never get a job in this town again." She opened her mouth again in an attempt to protest but he waved her away. "I know you're Jennifer Knight's pet, but I don't care what she says. The Two Thousand's designated driver will demonstrate the unit for Senator Bellis and the Board tomorrow and that's final. Now get out of here."

* * *

At her wits' end, Mikayla phoned Peter Tomlinson and asked him to meet her for lunch at a coffee shop not far from the R&D campus. She didn't want to take a chance that any conversation they had would be recorded. There was a deep suspicion percolating through her head that wouldn't let go, and she needed his advice as a former law enforcement officer.

"Thank you for the invitation, but I don't understand the point of this," Tomlinson said by way of greeting as he sat down. "As far as your boss is concerned, I'm to be KITT's driver. He told me himself earlier. Don't tell me that KITT believes otherwise?"

"No, KITT grumbled about it but I managed to talk him around. That's not why I called you. Some things have happened in the last week that rubbed me the wrong way, and I can't figure out why. You used to be a cop, so I want your professional opinion."

His eyes twinkled. "You want me to investigate your own company."

She dropped her gaze to the table. "Am I that obvious?"

With a chuckle, he gently lifted her chin with one finger. "You're too honest. And you want to protect KITT. I got that impression clearly from yesterday." He straightened in his seat. "Tell me what you need. I think I can still pull a few favours."

* * *

Upon her return to the garage, she was blindsided with the news that her team members except for Takumi were to be reassigned now that the project was considered complete. Given what Charles had mentioned during their first meeting, it shouldn't have been a surprise, but it still hurt. They immediately made their case for staying together to their supervisor Pascal, with KITT offering his own insights via a phone link, to no avail. The VP had signed off on it, so they had no choice.

KITT wasn't happy either. "You presented good arguments," he said when they all came to the garage to bid him farewell. "But we must follow our orders. I'm thankful that you built such a durable frame for me."

"And we're all pleased to have known you, KITT," Charles said. "You take care."

"Of course," said KITT graciously.

When the others had left, Mikayla stayed a while longer to do a few last-minute adjustments and clean up. "You know, Peter doesn't have to be the one driving," she pointed out. "You can navigate that course easily without him putting one finger on the wheel. All the senator needs to see is your performance, not necessarily his."

"That would be dishonest," KITT observed. "What if Mr. Tomlinson becomes my driver and subsequently fails a mission because of his inability to direct me adequately? You know the consequence of that."

"You're right," she conceded morosely. "He needs more time to learn, but it's time that we don't have." She wiped up a few drops of oil on the engine block and closed the hood. "That senator wants to put an agent in the field as quickly as possible, and Mr. Cross won't understand the seriousness of being unprepared. I'm beginning to think that all he wants is the government payout."

There was a long pause before KITT spoke again. "It appears we're at an impasse."

"Indeed. Well," she said as she wiped her hands and began to put the tools away, possibly for the last time, "I've done all I can, mechanically at any rate. If I'm lucky enough to have a job by tomorrow afternoon it certainly won't be in this department." With a bittersweet smile, she caressed KITT's hood. "I'll tell you a secret though. Rebuilding you and getting to know you has been a dream come true for me, and it's been so much fun."

His scanner flashed. "It has been… fun for me as well," he said, then his voice softened. "The ideal situation would have been if you became my driver." The tone was kind, almost pleading.

For a split-second her entire body became numb and the wrench she carried slipped through her fingers and fell to the floor with a loud clang. She knew that KITT never hesitated to express his own opinion, but to have a genuine desire? That hadn't even been in the scope of his original programming, had it? "What did you just say?" she whispered.

There was no sound other than the swoosh of his scanner echoing off the garage walls.

She turned toward him, fists clenched. Her voice shook. "You ask the impossible. I'm an engineer, not an operative. You know what the qualifications are just as well as I do: police or military training, firearms use, stealth techniques, hand-to-hand combat. Theoretically I could learn all that, but it would take years."

"As an example, the average time to achieve the highest level in most popular martial arts is four years, nine months," KITT offered.

"So, then." She scooped the wrench up from the floor and put it in its proper place. "If I could, I'd settle for being your full-time mechanic because I'd still get to see you on a regular basis. But from what Mr. Cross said, he's ready to toss me out the window now that the project is done. At least Taki will still be here to help you." Viciously shoving the toolbox aside, she headed toward the door, head down, not wanting KITT to see her crying.

"Mikayla."

She stopped short. It was the first time he'd called her by her given name.

Then she heard her own voice being played back: "_I get it. Too many people have lied to you and treated you like no more than a hunk of metal and plastic. I never will. If I forget that, you have permission to remind me_."

"That was the moment that you showed me there was still someone who cared," KITT said. "You believed in me, so I chose to believe in you."

"KITT…" Half-blinded by tears, she stumbled over to the car. The driver's side door opened, and she sat with her knees pulled up to her chest. All the stress of the past few weeks flowed out of her body. It took her a few minutes to compose herself, and KITT waited patiently, his scanner softly whining. "Thanks, buddy," she said gratefully.

KITT hesitated and then said, in a reflective tone, "Michael used to call me that."

"Oh!" Mikayla delved into a pocket for a tissue and wiped her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't know…"

"I don't mind. I'd be honoured to call you a friend."

She tapped the palm of one hand on the dashboard. "The feeling's mutual, KITT."

They sat in amicable silence for a while.

"What will you do tomorrow?" KITT asked.

"Well, I'll be at the test track for the demonstration, of course. Taki and I need to be on hand to make sure you're in top form. I'll bet Peter's going to be crazy nervous, and I feel sorry for him. I don't suppose I can talk you into assisting him?"

"You might remember that Mr. Cross was very specific in his request that the driver had to be in control the entire time."

"Yes, which made no sense to me, since the whole point was to show _your_ abilities, not just the operator's. It's as if…" She trailed off, as an unwelcome realization sunk in.

"As if what?" KITT prompted.

"For the past while I've felt that something wasn't right, and this clinches it. Cross knows that my team are the best people to take care of you, but he broke us apart. He knows that Peter can't complete the course, but he's plowing ahead with the demonstration anyway. We'll be made to look like fools in front of the senator and the company brass, who in all likelihood will overrule Ms. Knight and cut off our funding. That would result in layoffs and department restructuring."

"And quite possibly my destruction… again." He sounded scared.

She clapped her hands emphatically, her anger rising. "Your components would be sold off to make up for the loss of outlay, and who knows where your CPU would end up. Cross has been lying the entire time. He doesn't care about what you represent. He _wants_ this project to fail, maybe to get back at Jennifer Knight for not promoting him to the Board. In our meeting earlier he told me that he'd known all along that I was here on Ms. Knight's recommendation but didn't care about her motives. I thought then he was blowing off steam, but now it makes sense."

"What shall we do?"

She let out a bark of laughter. "You're the smart one, don't you have any ideas?"

"Don't sell yourself short, Mikayla," he said. "You helped rebuild me, so you're rather bright yourself."

After considering for a few moments, Mikayla bent forward and leaned on the steering wheel with a conspiratorial look in her eyes. "I've already asked Peter to investigate, but here's what we can do." 


	9. Demonstration

Knight Rider and all associated characters (except mine) are owned by National Broadcasting Company and Universal Studios. All persons described herein are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. Copyright infringement is not intended.

Chapter 9: Demonstration

The black Camaro circled around the test track, the sun sparkling on its hood, its engine rumbling at peak efficiency. The driver, wearing white overalls and a black helmet, waved to the assembled dignitaries as the car passed them.

Jennifer Knight, in a rare appearance outside of her office, stood between Mr. Cross and Senator Bellis. Behind them were the members of the Board of Directors, and Dr. Yamata, representing the engineering team. "Thank you again for coming today, everyone," Ms. Knight said. "This car has been two years in development, and we're proud to be able to show it off for you. It's a re-imagining, if you will, of the original field vehicle that was used by our subsidiary, the Foundation for Law and Government, in the 1980s."

"I read about FLAG," one of the board members said. "What wasn't classified, at least. Its mission statement was that one man, with the right support, could make a difference."

"I'm glad that someone has kept informed," Ms. Knight said sincerely.

"All nostalgia aside," Mr. Cross said, "the purpose of this presentation is to allow you to assess the viability of the project for any future needs. This vehicle's functions are controlled by an advanced computer system that can assist its operator in various ways. If necessary, the car can even drive itself."

"That's hardly unusual these days," Senator Bellis remarked.

"You might find that there's more to that car than meets the eye, Senator," said Cross.

The sound of the engine changed pitch as the car sped by again, catching a few of the men by surprise. Awestruck, one observed, "That sounds more like a jet than a car."

Cross explained, "That's because its engine is a custom-built turbojet engine with modified afterburners and a rocket boost system for high-speed operation. But its true attraction is its maneuverability, which the driver will demonstrate." One corner of his mouth quirked up.

Out on the course, the driver seemed to be having some difficulty navigating the turns, prompting one man to comment, "So far I haven't seen anything that spectacular. You promised us results, Mr. Cross."

Cross was beginning to feel confident that all was going according to plan… until he noticed something different about the way the car was moving. After an unimpressive start, the driver had sped up and was now flawlessly executing hairpin turns, drifts, and power slides. How had Tomlinson improved so much in less than 24 hours? Had he been concealing his true ability all along? Or had that pesky engineer done something to the car's AI? She was supposed to be here, so where was she, anyway?

Another movement attracted his attention and he saw that two technicians were in the process of pulling a three-foot high wooden wall across the track not far from where the group was standing. "What are you doing over there?!" he bellowed. "Get that out of the way!" Privately he hoped that the driver would hit it – then the car might be damaged enough to not be able to continue.

The car had reached the straightaway and was speeding toward the obstacle. To the absolute astonishment of almost all present, there was an abrupt burst of rocket fire and the car was boosted into the air by propulsion units underneath the frame. It soared over the barrier, and its modified suspension groaned as it landed neatly on the other side. Seemingly undamaged, the car rounded the next turn and roared away.

Everyone in the group applauded enthusiastically, except for Cross, whose arms hung limply at his sides. What was going on here?

"_That_ is what I came to see!" he heard Jennifer Knight cry exultantly. "KITT is _back_!"

Under his passive expression, Cross was seething. Jennifer Knight must have been planning this all along, perhaps even to spin off another iteration of FLAG. How could she be this unwise? A few days before the current FLAG had officially begun operation in January 2009, millions of dollars worth of Knight Industries stock was sold and the money had vanished. There'd been suspicions and accusations over the matter, but an internal investigation failed to determine who was responsible. It had taken years for the company to recover.

The driver approached the barrier again… but instead of leaping over it, the car careened straight through it, smashing the wood into chunks that flew in all directions across the track. Some landed at the feet of the group, startling them, but causing no injuries. The car meantime, had not sustained a single scratch.

With an ear-piercing screech and the pungent smell of smoking rubber, the Camaro slid to a stop nearby. Its driver climbed out and gave an impromptu salute before leaning against the side of the vehicle.

As the dignitaries gave another ovation, both Cross and Ms. Knight hurried toward the car.

"That was simply _amazing_," Jennifer gushed.

Cross brusquely interrupted his boss, hoping to salvage some part of his plan. "You," he said, shaking a fist at the driver, who still hadn't removed the helmet. "That last stunt was simply too much. People could've been hurt! I will be writing you up for reckless endangerment…"

A response came not from the driver, but the car. "Mr. Cross, I calculated the precise speed at which to strike the barrier that would cause the fragments to fall at a safe distance and not injure anyone. It's simple physics."

"Something you should've understood," the driver added, "if you've been Vice President of R&D at such a company as Knight Industries."

His expression contracted. "That voice… You're not Tomlinson!"

"No." The driver pulled off the helmet, to reveal the face of Mikayla Ferrell.

Now he knew his back was against the wall. "What is this? The Two Thousand was supposed to be operated by Tomlinson! That's what the Board was told." He glanced behind him for corroboration from the board members who had walked over to hear the exchange.

"Sir, you told me in our meeting yesterday that, I quote, the _designated driver_ was to operate the Two Thousand for this demonstration. I happen to be KITT's designated driver today. He chose me to do it." There was a chorus of doubts from the assemblage, except for Ms. Knight and Takumi, and Mikayla smiled. They knew better.

Cross clenched his fists. "It's a computer," he growled stubbornly. "Computers must follow their programming, they don't have independent thought."

"KITT does," Mikayla said staunchly. "But he did follow his programming: he analyzed the data, compared Tomlinson's driving ability to mine, and selected the person best suited for performing this course and showing off his capabilities. Isn't that what you wanted to see?"

"Your driver is right, Dale," the senator said. "And I must say both she and the car executed the task admirably. However, there's still the matter of the field agent."

"Senator Bellis," Mikayla said quickly, "I'm sure Mr. Tomlinson would be a good agent. Gentlemen, please give me three months and I can train him to be able to handle KITT. Going into the field unprepared is a major risk in any milieu."

"This is my department, and my decision to make," Cross said obstinately.

Jennifer Knight rounded on him. "No, it's not," she contradicted. "I finally see what you're trying to do, Dale. Your division has been hanging on by a knife edge, and you don't want a repeat of the 2009 stock crash, so you're trying to dismantle the AI development program in order to gain a few extra dollars. You're just the same as that idiot Russell Maddock was."

"I'm trying to help this company get ahead!" he insisted. "That can't happen if it's run by soft-hearted idealists!"

She put her hands on her hips and pouted. "If you think I'm an idealist, you don't know me at all," she said with scorn. "What's happened to you, Dale?"  
Trying to maintain some semblance of composure, Cross cleared his throat and said, "This should be discussed back at the office." He craned his neck to see where the other people had parked their cars. "Where's the Senator's chauffeur?"

"You mean this guy?" called a new voice. Everyone turned to see Peter Tomlinson, dressed in a dark shirt and jeans, hauling along Frederick Harrison who was wearing a chauffeur uniform and had his hands tied behind his back. "I found him hiding next to the track during the demonstration, trying to shoot out the car's tires with a silenced pistol. Someone _really_ didn't want things to go well today." He gave the man a shove and Harrison stumbled forward into the arms of two of the Board members. "Mikayla and KITT were in touch with me the entire time because they expected something to happen."

"Not that it would've made a difference," Mikayla said smugly. "KITT is completely bulletproof, including the tires. Which you would've known, Mr. Cross, had you bothered to look at the specs. I wondered why you didn't answer my question about that, so I asked Mr. Tomlinson to do some investigating. Call it a test for a prospective field agent." She smiled. "My question now is, are you acting alone or is the senator involved too?"

Senator Bellis gaped in utter disbelief and raised his hands. "I have nothing to do with Mr. Cross' rather obvious grudge. My concern was whether a vehicle of this caliber would be beneficial for use by the police or other peacekeeping force."

Mikayla turned to him. "I must object, Senator," she said icily. "KITT is not to be used as a weapon."

"I second that," Jennifer Knight said.

"All of you are fools," Cross growled. Before anyone could move, he grabbed Ms. Knight from behind and pulled a gun from his jacket. "That car is going to save this company; it's worth millions. Now, let's you and I go for a drive, Jennifer, and discuss matters." He began to drag her toward the parked cars, and the rest of the people present didn't dare take any action for fear of endangering the CEO further. "If you want her to stay safe, don't follow us."

"_Mikayla, Peter,_" came KITT's urgent voice in the earpiece she wore, "_my sensors are detecting another armed man near the track_–"

A gunshot rang out.

Mikayla felt a white heat pierce her left arm and she dropped to her knees with a cry. Everyone else scattered in a panic, with the exception of Peter, who dove toward KITT and slid through the still-open door into the driver's seat. "Can you get in?" he asked as he slammed the door shut.

She struggled to her feet and hurried behind the car as a second shot ricocheted off the driver's side window. KITT obligingly opened the passenger door to let her clamber inside. "Occupant restraint system activated," he said as he sealed himself.

"KITT," she panted, "Find Cross and disable him with a tranquilizer. We don't want him to hurt Ms. Knight."

"What about–" Peter began but was interrupted as KITT switched from Normal mode to Autopilot, put himself into reverse, and swept the area.

Another shot slammed into the windshield in front of Mikayla, and she saw a spidery filigree spread outwards about two inches from the impact point as the nano-skin dissipated the energy into itself. The bullet bounced harmlessly off the MBS-coated glass. Despite her fascination with the process, she grimaced in pain. Her arm was throbbing now and despite that she had clamped onto the wound with her free hand, blood was slowly spreading into the fabric of her coveralls. This hurt way more than anything she'd experienced before.

KITT said, "The shots seem to be directed toward Mikayla."

"I figured that I'm the target," she agreed. "But now that I'm safe, we can deal with the shooter afterwards."

"Deploying tranquilizer darts," KITT reported as a tiny cylinder extended from his front bumper. He had found Cross, who was still trying to pull Ms. Knight away at gunpoint and wasn't paying attention to what was happening behind him. Two seconds after the dart hit him, he groaned and collapsed unconscious to the ground.

Ms. Knight crouched as KITT positioned himself between her and his estimated location of the shooter. Peter flung his door open and moved forward enough so that she could squeeze past him and into the back seat.

The instant that the door was closed, KITT peeled out, leaving ruts in the grass border. "Mikayla, your vitals are stable," he said, but there was concern in his voice. "My scans show that the bullet is lodged between your biceps muscle and humerus, and fortunately didn't hit any major blood vessels, but you shouldn't move your arm or you might damage more tissues."

"KITT, can you locate the shooter's position?" Peter asked as he looked around. "We have to stop him."

"I've identified the shooter as Steven Miller. He's running toward the parking area." KITT accelerated in that direction, eliciting a yelp of surprise from Ms. Knight.

"He might be trying to escape in a car," Mikayla said through gritted teeth. "Dart him as soon as you get in range."

"Consider it done," KITT said brightly. "Deploying tranquilizer darts."

Miller had reached a car and had one hand on the door handle when KITT's dart struck him. He folded up on the pavement like a rag doll as KITT corrected his course and sped past the parked vehicles toward the exit.

"Where are you going?" Peter was confused. Clearly, he'd expected KITT to stop.

"Mikayla needs medical attention," KITT said as he turned onto the street. "The threats have been neutralized, so there's no further danger. I can reach the nearest hospital faster than an ambulance can get here. After all, I am programmed to respond to the needs of my driver."

Mikayla chuckled weakly. "You're all heart, KITT."

"De nada, buddy," he replied.


	10. Decisions

Knight Rider and all associated characters (except mine) are owned by National Broadcasting Company and Universal Studios. All persons described herein are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. Copyright infringement is not intended.

Chapter 10: Decisions

"Impossible," Dr. Yamata muttered to himself as he restlessly paced back and forth in his cubicle. "Unprecedented." The cup of coffee in his hand had long since cooled but he still nursed it out of habit. What he'd seen at the track yesterday had validated one of the team's theories about how the AI bonded with the drivers, but the circumstances had been anything but ideal. There would be hell to pay now, since KITT had apparently chosen to bond with Mikayla instead of the operative that was intended for him. Nobody had thought to warn her either, although he suspected that she already knew.

Mikayla had needed minor surgery to remove the bullet from her arm, and was expected to be in the hospital for least four days. She was facing months of healing and physiotherapy after that. It was uncertain if she would regain full flexibility but she had youth and time on her side. KITT had argued to be allowed to remain in communication with her during her convalescence, which Ms. Knight had voluntarily approved.

Dale Cross was arraigned on charges of misuse of company funds, assault, and accessory to attempted murder. Tomlinson's investigation had found that it was Cross who'd hired Miller and Harrison. Miller bore a grudge against Mikayla and had been easy to manipulate into trying to get her out of the picture once her usefulness was at an end. The chase across town was a botched attempt to scare her into quitting, and when that was unsuccessful, they'd attacked the demonstration in the hopes of damaging the car and destroying her credibility. They hadn't bargained on KITT of course.

Senator Bellis had graciously extended his apologies even though he'd been unaware of the conspiracy. Harrison had masqueraded as his chauffeur in order to bypass security and enable Miller to gain access to the Knight Industries property. To atone for such a serious lapse, the senator offered his full support for further operations concerning KITT.

The company was in an uproar. With the loss of the Vice President, a prime engineering team in shambles, and a high-priced investment sitting idle, the Board of Directors was to convene the next day to discuss the division's future. It didn't look good.

Takumi's phone buzzed, and he found a text from KITT requesting his presence in the garage. He ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh, for a moment regretting the fact that the AI had been given the ability to tap into the cellphone network. Strident voices were audible before he even reached the door, and he walked into the middle of a verbal altercation between Tomlinson and the AI. "Dr. Yamata, would you kindly tell this ham-handed Neanderthal that I'm not to be used for joyriding?"

"All I asked was that we go to the track to practice," Tomlinson protested. "Didn't Mikayla herself say that I need to learn proper control?"

"It would be difficult to do so without her guidance," was KITT's rejoinder.

Takumi hollered, "Gentlemen, please!" and they subsided. "You're both right, but the fact remains that until Mikayla is able to return to work, we have to wait. I don't like it any more than you do, especially with the Board planning to decide all our fates."

"Do you know what Ms. Knight might say?" asked KITT. "She holds the key vote."

"Even the CEO can be overruled," Takumi said glumly. "We'll find out one way or the other tomorrow. In the meantime, do you two think you could at least try to get along?"

Tomlinson huffed out a breath and rested his gaze on KITT's scanner. "For Mikayla's sake, I will. I apologize, KITT. She'd want us to have an understanding."

The scanner swiped emphatically. "Yes, she would."

* * *

By her third day in the hospital, Mikayla was fidgety and wanted to leave. Her arm was beginning to heal cleanly and she'd been given strict care instructions. The highlights of her days were messages from both Takumi and KITT, who kept her apprised of developments at the office. Everyone was holding their collective breaths while awaiting the Board's findings. KITT missed her, but he was doing his best to reach a compromise with Tomlinson.

She was utterly surprised when, late in the afternoon, she was visited by a beaming Takumi and, of all people, Sarah Graiman. "Taki! Sarah!" she exclaimed as she clumsily hugged both of them. "I'm so happy to see you! Please say you've come to spring me."

"We have, and more," Sarah said, holding out an oversized shirt that could fit over her bandaged arm. "Once you're ready, have we a story for you."

It took a few uncomfortable minutes for her to struggle into her clothes and collect her personal effects, but she was relieved to sign the discharge papers and allow herself to be escorted slowly to the exit.

"Three of the Board members were ready to axe the entire program," Taki began with a wicked grin, "but the rest were onside. Especially after Ms. Knight called in her ace card."

"Which was me," Sarah confessed. "She thought that I should be a part of it, since I'd provided specialized information and access to the Foundation's records for the project."

"I thought FLAG was separate from Knight Industries," Mikayla said, confused.

Sarah nodded. "It is, but technically we're still KI employees even though none of us are on record as being such, and we're partially funded by KI money. Given all the work that the company has done, Jennifer and I made a proposal that benefits everyone." She opened the briefcase that she carried and extracted a file folder with the FLAG logo on it. "You and the Two Thousand are now part of the FLAG team."

"What?!" Her jubilant exclamation attracted the attention of several people in the hallway. Embarrassed, she fought to keep herself under control until they'd left the building and reached the parking lot. "You're creating another division?"

"Got it in one," Sarah confirmed with a smile, "and you'll be leading it."

Mikayla shook her head in disbelief. "I'm a scientist, not an administrator."

"That's why you can choose a team that you feel is up to the job," said Sarah as she handed over the folder. "And I think your KITT will be behind you all the way." She indicated the row of cars that they were approaching.

"My...?" Her voice failed. At the end of the row were parked two midnight black cars that seemed to absorb the sunlight. One was a Camaro 2SS. "KITT!" she cried as she loped the last few yards, ignoring the jolts of pain from her left arm. "Thank you for coming, buddy. I missed you." She leaned against him and patted his roof.

"The feeling is mutual, Mikayla," he said affectionately.

In the next second she realized who KITT's neighbour had to be. Slowly she turned, and tentatively placed her hand on the hood of the Mustang GT500KR. "Forgive my manners. I'm pleased to meet you, Knight Industries Three Thousand."

"Likewise, Dr. Ferrell." The smooth baritone voice was miles different from that of his 'father'. "Thank you for restoring the Two Thousand. It's exhilarating to have another family member to speak with."

"I think we're all family of a sort, KITT," Sarah said.

"Yes," both AIs agreed, their scanners flashing in unison.

* * *

The next few weeks were a whirlwind. Mikayla returned to the R&D facility once, to pack up her desk and say goodbye to the people she had worked with for so long. The spacious estate near Las Vegas was to become a FLAG office once again, and she and the team she chose were invited to move into permanent residence. The Rook, FLAG's mobile unit, was also updated and brought back into service, much to KITT's delight.

She knew exactly who she wanted, and they all joined her without reservation. Charles Davis would be director and liaison to both the company and the government. Alex MacGillivray was their software engineer. Brenda Walsh was their researcher and support technician. Mikayla herself was KITT's full-time mechanic, while Peter Tomlinson had agreed to be the official field agent. As for Takumi, he had been promoted to temporary Vice President of Knight Industries R&D until the department stabilized, and he couldn't have been happier.

Before leaving, Mikayla paid a visit to Jennifer Knight's office to thank her for helping to create the new path for her to follow. She also arranged to have a portion of her savings and a percentage of her future earnings to be put in trust for the care of her brother Devante. His most recent psychological evaluation had stated that he was recovering but there was a long way to go.

* * *

May 2019

"I'm still not sure about this," Peter complained as he shuffled through his ID cards. They were riding in the back of the Rook as it trundled along the highway toward Tonopah and their first case. "I know the company prefers that agents divorce themselves from their past and take new identities. But what's with the chess theme? 'Peter Bishop' doesn't sound right."

"You refused both 'Queen' and 'McQueen'," Mikayla reminded him. "You said that they were too pretentious, even though you're the one who'll be moving around more than the rest of us." True to her word, she'd spent three months training him on KITT's handling and the use of the car's devices. In return, he'd taught her some basic stealth and hand-to-hand fighting techniques in case she needed to enter the field as his backup. She intended to take formal martial arts lessons soon. "You'll get used to it, I'm sure."

A chime sounded and KITT said, "Charles is calling."

"Put it up," Peter directed, and one of the mobile lab's screens brightened to show the estate's classic main office with the wainscoting and heavy drapery. "Hello, Charles, checking up on us already?"

The older man smiled. Now wearing a gray suit instead of a lab coat and jeans, he was hardly recognizable. "I assume you've looked over the mission summary. Are you ready?"

"We have, and we're ready to roll," Peter said confidently. He stuffed the wallet into his jeans pocket and slid into KITT's driver's seat. The motion was easier now after much practice. "Let's go."

"Good luck," Charles said, and cut the connection.

Mikayla patted KITT's hood as the ramp lowered. "Be careful out there, and watch out for each other."

"Will do," KITT responded, and Peter gave a thumbs-up.

The black Camaro backed down the ramp, and the instant its tires hit the pavement it accelerated to pass the semi and leave it behind. Its brand-new KNIGHT license plate glinted in the sun and the forward scanner swept back and forth eagerly. For the first time in many years, KITT felt content. He was back in the world with a new team, a new driver, and a trusted friend. The adventures that awaited were limitless.

Mikayla watched them go on the interior monitor and smiled to herself as she inserted the earpiece that was her constant connection to KITT. She hadn't finished her journey, not by a long shot. There was a lot more that she wanted to learn and experience, and this mission was a new beginning. In the spirit of looking forward, like Peter she'd also chosen to forsake her past. Her father was dead, she'd split with her mother years ago, and she could still visit Devante as a friend instead of a sister.

She proudly held up her new driver's license that read: Mikayla Knight.

THE END  
Sailor Chronos  
April 2020

Thank you to the following people:  
My husband, as always, for his support.  
My beta-readers Doc0517 and |||Bluebird|||  
Glen A. Larson for creating the Knight Rider universe to play in.

* * *

A/N: I've always liked to hide pop culture references in my stories. In case readers missed these:

Chapter 3: Mikayla's Halloween costume is the character of Kiki from the Japanese animated movie Kiki's Delivery Service.  
Chapter 4: Session Zero refers to a tabletop RPG term, where the game master holds a meeting to outline the ground rules for the campaign world so the players know what to expect.  
Chapter 4: The character of Takumi is a name-drop for the protagonist from the Japanese street racing manga and animated series Initial D.  
Chapter 5: The dialog of "Can you see me? Excellent. Next question: who am I?" reflects the opening scene of Person of Interest Season 2 Episode 1, another series featuring an AI.  
Chapter 6: KITT's Nano-skin uses the same principle as shown in the 2008 Knight Rider pilot movie.  
Chapter 6: The investigator 'Fox' Harrison is a nod to Harrison/Harry Fox, main characters of the 1984 series Crazy Like a Fox.  
Chapter 6: The Senator Bellis character was inspired by Donald Bellisario, a TV producer and de-facto rival to Glen A. Larson.  
Chapter 7: Shawn McCormick became Michael Knight's replacement during the events of the Knight Rider 2000 movie released in 1991.  
Chapter 9: The mention of Russell Maddock is another nod to Knight Rider 2000. The character was responsible for KITT being dismantled.  
Chapter 10: The 'Peter Bishop' alias is not to be confused with the character of the same name in the 2008 series Fringe.


End file.
